The Severed Hand

The hooves get louder, and soon a midnight black horse gallops into view, two small forms clinging to its back. Once it's close enough, the horse transforms into Halla, holding both Harmony and Valiance in her arms.

The druid woman lets both children drop to the ground, then rushes forward to where Zenithral lies recovering. She looks about to hug the half-elf, but stops herself. "Zenithral! Alalla? You're alive! You're all... Where is Oswald? And that dwarf? What... what happened?"

Harmony and Valiance scamper over to Zenithral. Something seems different about them. Are they taller?

"Ug and Ras are alive too, you know." Zenithral smiles at Halla and the children, but it quickly fades. "Larrel killed Fergy, then the Nine Hells broke loose with deadly monstrosities...and librarians. We escaped just before Larrel destroyed the whole place. Oswald saved us...but didn't make it."

Not done yet. Al grits her teeth. "Their deaths are my fault. I wasn't watching closely enough, and let Fergy wander into trouble." Her jaw relaxes. "During the collapse I fell and left Ras stuck in the tower. Oswald had to rescue him. He shouldn't have even been there, by rights."

Halla looks back and forth from one to the other. "Librarians? And who is Larrel?" She throws up her hands. "Nevermind, none of you are in any state to tell stories." She glances at Ras, then at Aeri. "Rest. A meal and some rest."

She looks at the airship and opens her mouth, then closes it. "Give me a few minutes."

Halla pulls out a folding table and begins casting a long spell. Her eyes keep shifting between the companions as she chants quietly, and her eyes redden whenever they pass over Ras' quiet form. As the casting continues, a warm breeze blows over the group.

When she is done, a fully cooked and seasoned meal is conjured upon the table, enough to feed everyone present - except, perhaps, for Aeri as her dragon self.

Zenithral sighs with satisfaction as he takes a bite of the glorious meal. He wipes his mouth with a cloth. "How have things been for all of you?" he asks looks at Halla, Lance, and Mona each in turn, as he picks up a glass. "Better than us, I hope."

Mona smiles shyly at Zenithral, her eyes wide and bright. Lance seems more concerned with his food. He tears at a piece of meat with needle-like teeth. It seems he is paying attention to his surroundings however, for whenever a dish clangs too loudly he starts like a wild cat.

Halla answers for them. "The first few days were difficult, but we kept ourselves busy. After the first week I was ready to go in after you, but Oswald convinced me otherwise. He said you could handle yourselves." She swallows and her eyes flick towards Ras. "After that, I started taking the children on long outings to teach them some basic survival skills. We were just returning when we saw the explosion..."

She looks at Vincent. "Where did this one come from?"

Up and walking around, Vincent watches all the socializing from the sidelines. Not knowing anybody, nor being completely comfortable around large groups of people, Vincent silently counts the days.

How long have I been gone? How many days do I have to find a suitable soul?

Still wreathed in shadows, Vincent pointedly ignores Halla's question as he takes the time to resummon his blade and sheath it in his shadows.

Alalla stops, food halfway to her mouth. "'After the first week?' Halla, how long were we in there?"

Halla blinks. "It's been nearly a month." Her eyes flick from face to face. "Look, Harmony and Valiance have even learned to speak mostly properly in that time. I think they're just shy now."

Zenithral spews out wine. "A month?!" he sputters. He winces and awkwardly casts prestidigitation to clean the mess off Halla.

Alalla stands abruptly, rattling the table. "Sorry..." She walks to the bow of the ship and leans over the rail. "Good riddance, cursed hellscape," she mutters, holding her head.

Zenithral magically cleans his shirt, which he had also spit on. "Well, it's, er, good to hear everything's alright...Did you ever happen to run into Orrick? When I told him about the city he flew off...much like yourself."

a whole month- Though not always known as the smartest in the bunch, Ug makes the connection that time elapsed quickly while they were in the Hand. That would mean that the time that’s passed since he saw his mother in chains . . .

Ug stands up pushing his food away, "Then Ug must leave now!" He walks over to Aeri. "What is fastest way to dorns deep?" he demands quickly.

Al turns. "Now?" She rubs her temples in an attempt to soothe her temper. "Ug, we can't charge into the devil's lair."

Zenithral nods at Ug then swallows. "I imagine flying, my dear goliath," Zenithral says. "If the ship is still in working order, we might be able to get there fairly quickly. But I believe Alalla is correct."

Finally drawn by the smell of the meal, Aeri has changed into her gnome form. When Ug stomps up to her, she raises an eyebrow at the goliath, completely unimpressed by his stature. "Why would you want to go there? Itching to destroy another ancient ruin already?" She cocks her head at Alalla's proclamation of Poquelin's location. "You mean he is there?"

Aeri sits back and digests this for a moment. She rubs her face. Even with the magical meal, she doesn't seem her usual self. "Zenni is right, mostly. The fastest way to Dorn's Deep is the same way as anything else in this world. Teleportation, if you can manage it, or flight."

Ug waves his arms in frustration, a deep thumping inside him beginning to grow again. But it was the barbarian that saved them this last time, not his other side. Ug breaths out a long slow breath and the pulsing subsides. His friends didn’t know what he had seen. With a resigned and tired voice he hangs his head"but devil has mama" he says softly. Ug then rehearses to them the details of the vision, head hung, not looking up.

"Ug has been wrong, Al is good leader, he says quietly, and world needs good leader, leaders can save many friends. World also needs good friends, to save each other. Ug is not good leader, Ug cannot save many, no matter how hard Ug tries." Ugs shoulders shake slightly.


After a moment he finally looks up at Al, "But Ug wants to be good friend. Ug can save some friends. If Al wants to wait and save many, it is good choice. But Ug wants to save friends now. Ug glances at Ras. "Ug wants to save mama now. And Ug will not wait." he says the last piece quietly but resolutely. "mama would not wait."

Aeri sighs. "You can't save everyone, Ug. You lot have been busy, but the North is in an uproar." She downs a glass of wine, but seems totally unaffected. "I was investigating a lead in the Ten Towns when one of my wards here went off - triggered by you, I imagine. I passed Lonelywood. The entire town was aflame. Sacked." She growls. "It looked like an army was on its way to Targos, but I was in a hurry to get here."

"If it's been a month, who knows what else has happened..." Zenithral bemoans before taking another bite. "Perhaps Father Tulfgyr could contact your mother, Ug, via a sending. It could at least let you know if she's alright." He looks to Halla. "Could you send a message to the Father, somehow? Via a bird or something? Oh, but Lance and Mona..." Dozens of thoughts run through his mind. "Aeri, Halla, do either of you know the whereabouts of Orrick?"

Alalla's face softens as Ug speaks, but Aeri responds before she can. The icy fist of fear grips her heart, then melts into anger at her failure.

"A month? A month!" Alalla shouts and hurls her glaive into the night. "A month spent trying to dodge monsters and pretending I can't hear the whispering and crying in my head. A month trying to keep everyone alive and from strangling that dwarf myself." Alalla summons the glaive back to her hand. "And for WHAT?" She throws it.

"That fool got himself killed anyway and left us with his mess, and we missed the beginning of a war. What have we even accomplished? Larrel hardly gave us anything! We're at a disadvantage now more than ever."

"I haven't saved anyone, Ug. Not anyone."

Alalla summons her glaive again and closes her eyes as she grinds its base into the wood of the deck, breathing deeply. When she looks up, Al's one-eyed gaze is deadened, the roaring flame within snuffed out. This isn't the time for outbursts or the emotions that cause them.

Al turns to Aeri and Halla. "How soon will the army be in Targos? Do you know where Orrick is? There's a smallish group of orcs living a few days North of Kuldahar. Have you seen or heard anything of them?"